Many years ago I started to write a piece called Baby Girl Normal : An Arc in the Family Circle. I can say it is still a work in progress and has transitioned from poems to story forms, and back again. On March 9, 2012, I received a notice from the Unterberg Poetry Center, 92 Street Y in NYC that read: 'Timothy Donnelly, poetry editor at Boston Review, and Monica Ferrell selected my work (this piece, since edited by me) as one of the top 50 semi-finalists for the 2012 "Discovery"/Boston Review Poetry Contest. They received almost 700 manuscripts." It was an honor to be accepted and I was given 2 free passes to the winners' reading in NYC at Buttenwieser Hall at the 92nd Street Y Unterberg Poetry Center.
I dedicate this posting to a cousin (I have at least 30 just on my late-father's side of the family). She is close to my age, grew up in a very religious household, and is struggling with the fact that a daughter of hers is taking on a life she feels is right for herself. When I shared my sexual identity with my parents, my mother said, 'You're still the little girl who used to play Army with my pots and pans under the dining room table." My father gave me a concerned look and said, "But who will take care of you?" I had to laugh as I had worked during high school, college and always was employed. Even my mother worked and brought home a weekly paycheck all of her life. I think my sweet father was showing his generational upbringing of a woman needing a man to fill all of her needs, including finance. In a way, he already knew women were horribly underpaid in our society. I got hugs from both of my parents and my father's final words to me were, "This is always your home, too." What a gift they gave me; an uplifting of pure spirit from my beautiful, open-hearted parents. Incidentally, if you feel like smiling or laughing in some of these 'Tales' - it was meant to elicit some mirth here and there.
I dedicate this posting to a cousin (I have at least 30 just on my late-father's side of the family). She is close to my age, grew up in a very religious household, and is struggling with the fact that a daughter of hers is taking on a life she feels is right for herself. When I shared my sexual identity with my parents, my mother said, 'You're still the little girl who used to play Army with my pots and pans under the dining room table." My father gave me a concerned look and said, "But who will take care of you?" I had to laugh as I had worked during high school, college and always was employed. Even my mother worked and brought home a weekly paycheck all of her life. I think my sweet father was showing his generational upbringing of a woman needing a man to fill all of her needs, including finance. In a way, he already knew women were horribly underpaid in our society. I got hugs from both of my parents and my father's final words to me were, "This is always your home, too." What a gift they gave me; an uplifting of pure spirit from my beautiful, open-hearted parents. Incidentally, if you feel like smiling or laughing in some of these 'Tales' - it was meant to elicit some mirth here and there.
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